


Fixing Up the Loft

by LaBelleetlaloup



Series: Werewolf Courtship [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Courtship, F/M, POV Stiles, Werewolf Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 20:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4639527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelleetlaloup/pseuds/LaBelleetlaloup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek overhauls the entire building and also stocks up on food to Peter and Stiles' amusement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fixing Up the Loft

The next time Stiles was at the loft, the entire building was crawling with workers, like ants swarming out of a nest disturbed. There were mainly construction workers but also electricians and plumbers and there were workers actually putting in an elevator that met code. There were also plenty of installers, with appliances, with flooring, with windows, with doors, going up and down the stairs with their loads. All of them were huffing, puffing, grumbling. It was a little ridiculous.

Of course, part of werewolf courtship was providing a good den, so she had expected him to start decorating the loft. She had not realized he thought it necessary to overhaul the entire building-get a new elevator, sure, because that thing was a deathtrap, but not the entire building. It did answer her question of whether he was renting or not, though. It had seemed rude to ask, but obviously the man owned the entire building so definitely a “no” to renting. It also explained how he’d gotten the penthouse.

“Well, it’s certainly busy around here,” Stiles commented mildly as she let herself into Derek’s loft. Derek was nowhere to be seen. For that matter, she didn’t see anyone at all. Peter sauntered quietly into the living area from the kitchen as though in answer to her thoughts.

“Isn’t it?” Peter agreed, a smirk twitching his lips. “Derek took a sudden interest in his status as landlord.”

“Where is he, speaking of?” Stiles asked.

“Out with the betas, running them through the paces in the Preserve,” Peter answered. “He said something about them lacking in discipline. I declined his invitation to join in.”

“You might mess up your shirt.” Stiles rolled her eyes. She would never understand Peter’s priorities. Peter just shrugged and settled lightly on one of the chairs.

“Derek went grocery shopping so the kitchen is stocked if you want something,” he told her, picking up a book from the table and flipping it open. Stiles knew dismissal when she heard it.

She wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge, wondering what Derek considered to be a “stocked” kitchen. It was pretty stocked, in terms of being full. There were condiments (mayo, mustard, ketchup, 5 bottles of Sriracha, six kinds of salad dressing, two kinds of pickles, hummus, two brands of butter-apparently three tubs each), lots of fruit-mostly in the crisper but there was a single kiwi on the top shelf and was that a pomegranate next to the bread?, lots of vegetables, there was an entire bird of some variety-already cooked, was that pasta?, beer, a white wine and a red, three gallons of milk, a giant pitcher of some kind of iced tea, three dozen eggs, oh, and a fruit pie.

The freezer had a lot of frozen vegetables, most of them the microwave steam variety, and family meals-a whole pizza, a giant box of lasagna, a rice curry- as well as four boxes of waffles and five boxes of toaster strudel in varying flavors for breakfast. Well, that was better in terms of quality.

The cabinets yielded all sorts of goodies as well: tons of canned goods-every variety of bean available, lots of vegetables- a frankly obscene amount of peanut butter (um, had she missed the jelly?), like 12 things of chicken noodle soup-which what even?, reasonable enough amount of cereals-five different kinds- Count Chocula (of all things), Coco Puffs, Cap’n Crunch, Cookie Crisp, and plain Chex, entirely too much popcorn for one household and seemingly without two boxes the same, cookies in about every variation possible, a reasonable amount of crackers-both Ritz and Saltines, four bags each for the three varieties of chips, dried fruits-looked like he’d just swiped the Oceanspray shelf into his cart, even actual dishware and glasses and silverware. There was also an unopened box stuffed awkwardly in one cabinet, the shelves stacked wrong-ways on one side, with a slow cooker in it that hadn’t even gotten a dust sheen yet. She was highly amused by his definition of a stocked kitchen. It was endearingly cute though.

Stiles helped herself to a large glass of milk and a bowlful of cookie crisp, heading back into the living area with her treats and setting up camp on the sofa before the rest of the pack returned.


End file.
